second longer, and as she did so, an unsettling feeling began to gather in her lower abdomen, although she was unable to attribute it to anything specific.
“Aye, that I do,” Zora muttered. “And rulers don’t just show up with their entire households for any old reason. The Queen is plotting something, and I have a foul inkling about it.”
The maidservant decided not to answer, but no more words were needed. A feeling of understanding passed between the two women. For the first time in a long time Arianna felt a rush of sympathy for the young woman under her care. The Princess of Samaria was as fierce as a bull and rarely showed any emotion beyond indifference towards anyone, including her best friend. But Arianna knew she was always hurting, in more ways than one, and took that into consideration every time Zora’s tough nature got the better of her.
Zora quietly observed the Carian pages flying the orange and yellow country banners that displayed the Carian crest: a curved scythe underneath a gigantic sunburst. Columns of soldiers, ten abreast and ten deep, armed in full battle attire marched up to the castle. The King was riding a white stallion, and following him were several more men that Zora assumed were other Carian royalty.
They wore bright orange capes tied at the neck with a ruby broach. Orange tunics of satin draped lazily over their bodies, with raised embroidered designs decorating their chests. All wore boots of brown leather that reached their knees while black trousers bloused out over them. The Carian noble women were carried in on litters covered by delicate sheers to keep out the stormy rains. The Castle Guards of Mizra slowly opened the great gates to the fortress, allowing the remaining groups of Carians though and into the dryness of shelter.
As the last of the orange Carian ribbon disappeared inside, Zora was surprised to see another formation of people arriving behind them. There was about a two hundred total, and every single one was garbed entirely in black. Zora could tell the first half were men, and they wore breeches, boots, and a robe tucked in at the waist. A black veil covered their heads and faces so only the whites of their eyes remained unhidden.
The women were similarly dressed except they wore shapeless black dresses and headscarves. A veil of black mesh material covered their entire face so not even their eyes could be seen. Zora watched as the downpour increased in intensity, drenching this strange group of people as they were forced to stand in the cold wind and rain while the other Carians were welcomed into dryness and shelter.
Zora turned to Arianna to say something about it, but she had already rushed to close the wooden shutters as raindrops began pelting the side of the tower. The chamber was suddenly doused in darkness. Quickly, Arianna lit the candelabra next to Zora’s bed until a soft glow filled the room. Zora stood up from her seat feeling exhausted and completely depleted of life itself. Unbeknownst to anyone other than herself, Zora felt this way most days.
My mother has been coming and going from Samaria for weeks, returned without telling me, and now the King of Cara and hundreds of his people are filing into Mizra unannounced. What’s going on!
“Arianna,” Zora called out. “Will you have a bath drawn for me? I need a moment to clear my head. And summon Milo to gather some fresh lavender leaves from the greenhouse to put in the water. Tell him I’m sorry about missing my lessons, and ask him if we can meet later today instead.”
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, thinking of the sweet smell of fresh herbs and flowers. She had only been awake for an hour and already the events of the day, and the unexpected visitors, were overwhelming her. She needed time to think and regain her composure.
“With pleasure, My Lady,” Arianna
“Aye, that I do,” Zora muttered. “And rulers don’t just show up with their entire households for any old reason. The Queen is plotting something, and I have a foul inkling about it.”
The maidservant decided not to answer, but no more words were needed. A feeling of understanding passed between the two women. For the first time in a long time Arianna felt a rush of sympathy for the young woman under her care. The Princess of Samaria was as fierce as a bull and rarely showed any emotion beyond indifference towards anyone, including her best friend. But Arianna knew she was always hurting, in more ways than one, and took that into consideration every time Zora’s tough nature got the better of her.
Zora quietly observed the Carian pages flying the orange and yellow country banners that displayed the Carian crest: a curved scythe underneath a gigantic sunburst. Columns of soldiers, ten abreast and ten deep, armed in full battle attire marched up to the castle. The King was riding a white stallion, and following him were several more men that Zora assumed were other Carian royalty.
They wore bright orange capes tied at the neck with a ruby broach. Orange tunics of satin draped lazily over their bodies, with raised embroidered designs decorating their chests. All wore boots of brown leather that reached their knees while black trousers bloused out over them. The Carian noble women were carried in on litters covered by delicate sheers to keep out the stormy rains. The Castle Guards of Mizra slowly opened the great gates to the fortress, allowing the remaining groups of Carians though and into the dryness of shelter.
As the last of the orange Carian ribbon disappeared inside, Zora was surprised to see another formation of people arriving behind them. There was about a two hundred total, and every single one was garbed entirely in black. Zora could tell the first half were men, and they wore breeches, boots, and a robe tucked in at the waist. A black veil covered their heads and faces so only the whites of their eyes remained unhidden.
The women were similarly dressed except they wore shapeless black dresses and headscarves. A veil of black mesh material covered their entire face so not even their eyes could be seen. Zora watched as the downpour increased in intensity, drenching this strange group of people as they were forced to stand in the cold wind and rain while the other Carians were welcomed into dryness and shelter.
Zora turned to Arianna to say something about it, but she had already rushed to close the wooden shutters as raindrops began pelting the side of the tower. The chamber was suddenly doused in darkness. Quickly, Arianna lit the candelabra next to Zora’s bed until a soft glow filled the room. Zora stood up from her seat feeling exhausted and completely depleted of life itself. Unbeknownst to anyone other than herself, Zora felt this way most days.
My mother has been coming and going from Samaria for weeks, returned without telling me, and now the King of Cara and hundreds of his people are filing into Mizra unannounced. What’s going on!
“Arianna,” Zora called out. “Will you have a bath drawn for me? I need a moment to clear my head. And summon Milo to gather some fresh lavender leaves from the greenhouse to put in the water. Tell him I’m sorry about missing my lessons, and ask him if we can meet later today instead.”
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, thinking of the sweet smell of fresh herbs and flowers. She had only been awake for an hour and already the events of the day, and the unexpected visitors, were overwhelming her. She needed time to think and regain her composure.
“With pleasure, My Lady,” Arianna
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